


Mourning

by wizardofahz



Series: Ahzy's Summer of Supergirl Fics [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardofahz/pseuds/wizardofahz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ll never know who Alex is to her, and that hurts. Alex is her person, plain and simple. Alex will always be her Christina Yang that her Derek Shepherd would have to get used to having sleepovers with, the Ann Perkins that she would push her Ben Wyatt aside for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mourning

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Even with my broken angst meter, I’d consider this to be on the heavy side. Or is it? I don’t know. Like I said, angst meter broken.

Kara’s hand throbs. 

It’s a blue, green, and purple mess of swelling and bruises, but she’s grateful for it. Really. It’s a physical representation of how she feels on the inside. It’s a reminder to herself and anyone who looks at it that she’s hurting. Not that she needs the reminder. Not a second goes by in which she doesn’t feel the pain.

Kara clenches her hand into a fist, and the throbbing crescendos. 

She hadn’t realized she’d blown out her powers until J’onn had pulled her away—dragged her away kicking and screaming—from Bulldozer. Once she’d calmed down, she’d noticed that his gaze had zeroed in on her hand that, though covered in blood (not hers), was still obviously injured. Adrenaline, rage, and a myriad of other emotions had kept her from feeling the pain. And to be honest, if her hand never heals, if her powers don’t come back, she wouldn’t mind. Not so long as Alex… well… 

Kara places her uninjured hand on Alex’s and runs her thumb over her big sister’s knuckles.

“Eliza’s coming, so I won’t be around as much. I don’t think I can face her.”

Kara stops speaking. Her voice feels loud and uncomfortably out of place. The room is hardly silent. Monitors beep. Machines whir. But none of them call for a response, not the way the human—or Kryptonian in this case—voice does. 

“I love you,” Kara whispers and kisses the cheek of the unusually still frame that is Alex and escapes to her loft.

Spending the evening alone with nothing but her thoughts is hell. She tries painting. She tries eating. She tries anything and everything—everything except binging tv shows, that is; that feels like a betrayal without Alex by her side—to alleviate the overwhelming mixture of everything she’s feeling. People call, offering to talk, to keep her company, but she declines them all. They’re not the company she wants, and there’s nothing any of them can say to make her feel better. 

Her restlessness persists into the night.

Sleep doesn’t come easily. In fact, it doesn’t come at all.

 

* * *

 

_ “Did you enjoy my present?” Brains taunts. “Dead body. Dying body.” She moves upward palms in opposite directions, up and down as if they’re weighing scales. “I figured watching your sister die would hurt more. Did it?” _

_ Kara seethes. _

_ “It’s the hope,” Brains continues. “If she’s alive when you return to her, then there’s a chance you can save her. And then when the inevitable comes, it hurts all the more, doesn’t it?”  _

_ Brains grins. Behind her, the rest of The Gang follows suit, looking incredibly pleased with themselves. _

_ “She’s not dead,” Kara snaps. _

_ It’s a technicality, but it’s worth the look of shock on Brain’s face. _

_ “But you will be soon.” The words are barely out of Kara’s mouth before heat beams shoot out of her eyes. _

 

* * *

 

When morning comes, Kara goes to work. She needs the distraction.

She does her best not to navigate her morning on autopilot. She focuses on every detail, strains her senses to figure out her new limits, does everything in her power to prevent her mind from wandering back to Alex. 

When she arrives at CatCo, everyone is surprised to see her—what happened to Alex is all over the news—but thankfully most of them give her a wide berth. A few give her their quiet condolences. James and Winn hover a bit before she less than gently shoos them away.

She hides herself away in her new office, grateful for the private space.

The buzz from her unexpected presence apparently lasts until Cat arrives because there’s an eventual knock on the door.

“Kiera, open up.”

Professional obligation alone has Kara getting up and opening the door. “Ms. Grant.”

Kara’s sure her voice sounds as dead as she feels, but she doesn’t have it in her to play the perky former assistant today.  

“I thought you would take more time off,” Cat says in a voice that most would call uncharacteristically soft. “Actually I’m glad you’re here.” 

A pointed look over her shoulder has Kara stepping back to let Cat through. 

Kara plants herself behind her desk, thankful for the barrier it provides.

Cat settles herself into the chair in front of Kara’s desk and cuts to the chase, “I want to assure you that I’m not here to push you for an exclusive. In fact, I have put measures in place to ensure that nobody does. I’ve extended that to your foster mother as well.”

Turns out there is a perk to working for the Queen of All Media.

“Thank you,” Kara murmurs. 

“That’s not to say CatCo won’t be reporting on what happened,” Cat continues. “I will be writing your sister’s story. Whether you are a part of it is up to you. I would like you to be. I don’t think there is anyone else on this planet who can assure that her story is treated with the respect it deserves. But like I said, the choice is yours.”

Kara stares down at her lap.

There is no way any news story will pay proper tribute to Alex. As far as the world is concerned, Alex is a co-worker of Supergirl, at most a colleague turned friend. A good enough friend that she was used to hurt Supergirl. 

But Alex is so much more than that. Alex is her sister. Her best friend. Her other half.

The world can’t know that though because to know that would be to know that Kara Danvers is Supergirl.

They’ll never know who Alex is to her, and that hurts. Alex is her person, plain and simple. Alex will always be her Christina Yang that her Derek Shepherd would have to get used to having sleepovers with, the Ann Perkins that she would push her Ben Wyatt aside for. In her heart, Kara knows it doesn’t matter—it will never matter—who she falls in love with or if she even falls in love at all. No one will ever be more important than Alex.

She hopes Alex knows. Knew. Knows. She’s never told Alex, not with those specific words anyways. She hopes her actions were clear enough. But maybe they weren’t. 

What if they weren’t?

Kara clenches her fist at the thought, lets herself pretend that the pain she feels is because of her injured hand and not her injured heart.

Eventually she voices the only thought on her mind, “She deserves better.”

“I know,” Cat responds sympathetically. “I promise that, even if you say no, I will do everything I can to treat this story and your sister with the respect they deserve.”

Treating the story with respect means painting Alex as a hero, which she deserves. However, the news will inevitably think it also means painting Supergirl as a hero, perhaps even the bigger hero. Alex accepted her fate, but Supergirl’s the one who survived, the one who had to make the choice. She’s the one who has to live with the repercussions of her decision. All hail the glorious hero, who shoulders the burdens of the world, so the lowly people don’t have to.

She doesn’t deserve any glory.

“It was the wrong choice,” Kara says. “Put that in your article.”

“You shouldn’t blame Supergirl for what happened to your sister.”

Kara scoffs, not caring for a second how Cat will react to that. She will blame Supergirl all she wants. She’ll blame herself, already does in fact.

Almost as if reading her mind, Cat adds, “You shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

It takes Kara a moment to process Cat’s words, but when she does, she freezes. 

They stare at each other for a beat. Then another. And another.

Eventually Cat sighs, longsuffering as if keeping Kara’s secret was her own cross to bear. “Let’s dispense of the idea that I don’t know you’re Supergirl. I will admit that I was thrown by the little charade you put on with the Supergirl double—or the Kara double, I don’t care which one was fake—but the shape-shifting alien we saw during your Mrs. Hyde days cleared everything right up.”

“Ms. Grant.” Kara doesn’t have the energy to pretend she’s not Supergirl. She doesn’t have the energy to worry about her identity being exposed. She doesn’t want to have to worry about this now of all times.

“I’ll keep your secret,” Cat reassures her quickly. “You don’t have to worry about that. I only mean to say that, as someone who knows more than the average National City citizen, it was obvious that your sister loved you very, very much. Whenever you were both on the news, taking care of some alien or enhanced human villain of the week, she never bothered to contain that look of pride whenever you swooped in to save the day.”

Hearing this from Cat, a woman who has spent zero time with Alex—which is probably a good thing considering Alex’s “fight me” attitude and her less than stellar opinion of the woman who she felt didn’t treat Kara as well as she deserved—almost feels like a pat reassurance if not for the memory it brings up. 

Kara remembers her time under Red Kryptonite, remembers spitting vile words at Alex, who denied them all. “No, no. I’m proud of you,” she’d said.

But Kara can’t think about this anymore. She doesn’t want to. She’s either going to dissolve into a crying mess or a raging one (or both), and she would prefer for neither of those to crop up on her schedule today. Especially not in front of Cat Grant.

“Thank you,” she says quickly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to work.”

“Okay,” Cat says and stands. “Consider my proposal.”

Kara nods her acquiescence.

“And, Kara, I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

* * *

 

_ When Brains warns Supergirl and National City about the latter’s imminent destruction, she does so with a cavalier smirk.  _

_ “But because I’m so nice, I’ll give you a chance to save them.” _

_ Kara’s eyes narrow. “What’s the catch?” _

_ “An apt phrase,” Brains laughs. “The catch of the day is one Agent Danvers.” _

_ The camera pans out to reveal Alex, restrained and glaring defiantly at Brains, and Kara’s heart almost stops. _

_ “Kong, Ms. Mesmer, and Bulldozer are spread out across the city, just waiting to wreak some havoc. They’re hardly playing hide-and-seek. You should be able to find them easily enough. Agent Danvers and I, on the other hand, won’t be so easy to find. You can either try to save Agent Danvers, or you can save your city. The choice is yours.” _

_ Kara knows what the superhero textbook would say: the lives of the many outweigh the lives of a few. Alex means more to her than all the nameless, faceless people who are also in danger, but it’s not supposed to matter. Okay, maybe some of those people aren’t so nameless and faceless. Maybe she does know some of them. But none of them are Alex. She wants so desperately to disregard “the right thing”. _

_ But she can’t. _

_ Kara looks at Alex, desperate to convey how sorry she is. _

_ But Alex smiles. She even gives Kara a little nod, a gesture of gentle reassurance that she knows Kara will make the right choice and that the choice isn’t her. _

 

* * *

 

The problem with loss isn’t that Alex is gone. The problem is that she’s everywhere, her absence somehow a larger presence than her corporeal body would have been. Their lives have been so intertwined that it’s impossible to find a retreat.

Her apartment, once a possession of Alex’s, is a constant reminder of food and tv nights. If Kara thought she could find solace at CatCo, she was wrong. Alex had helped design her new office. Her old desk reminds her of the times Alex had visited. The rest of National City is riddled with locations where they hung out about town or tracked down and recaptured Fort Rozz prisoners together.

If it weren’t for the fact that Alex is there, Kara would avoid the DEO entirely. She still avoids Eliza—Vasquez lets her know whenever her foster mother is out, so she can visit Alex—but she gets as much time with Alex as she can. 

One day Vasquez stops her before she gets to the infirmary.

“Ma’am, Agent Danvers asked me to give to this to you if she ever died on the job—”

Kara glares at her as if she didn’t expect Vasquez of all people to betray her with those words. “She’s not dead.” 

Vasquez doesn’t take any offense. “I know,” she responds evenly. “But with the way you’ve been beating yourself up, I don’t think she’d mind if I give it to you now.”

Kara eyes the memory stick suspiciously like it could be a substance more harmful than Kryptonite, but she doesn’t resist when Vasquez gently grabs her hand and places the memory stick on her palm.

Vasquez sets her up in a room with a screen. She tells Kara to take her time and then leaves her alone.

Kara stares at the whole set up. She can’t bring herself to press play. It’s not right. Alex isn’t dead, and she shouldn’t be watching this.

She presses play in the end. She’s not sure what exactly pushes her over the edge. Maybe she just misses hearing Alex’s voice.

“Hi, Kara,” Alex says with an awkward wave as she appears on the screen.

She’s standing in the middle of her lab, and judging by the quiet background and the dim lighting, it’s probably late at night.

“Hi,” Kara whispers back.

Alex fidgets for a bit. “So, uh, I’m recording this because of the whole incident with the Helgrammite and Astra and then the White Martian thing. Basically being alien bait seems to be par for the course, and, uh, I’d really hate it if I ever, y’know, and you blame yourself for it.”

So that’s why Vasquez had given her this now.

“There are things I regret,” Alex says. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t the big sister you needed when you first got here. I’m sorry that I resented you and your powers for longer than I had any right to.” 

Alex looks truly sorry, and Kara’s heart clenches. They were supposed to talk about that after her experience with Red Kryptonite. They were supposed to clear the air. They never got a chance. Why didn’t they get a chance?

“But joining the DEO, devoting my life to protecting you, I will never regret that. Ever.” Alex’s words are forceful now. “And if I died because I was bait or a hostage or whatever, then I don’t want you to feel guilty about it. I made my choices, and I’m at peace with them.”

Kara remembers saying those same words to J’onn. Being on the receiving end was much worse. Tears wet her eyes. Her sinus goes all tingly.

Alex had flown up into space in a defunct spaceship to rescue her, and in return, Kara had brought her back only to lie in a coma she might never wake up from.

“I thought about setting up one of those hologram interfaces like your mom did, but that’s a bit much, right?” Alex jokes with an uncomfortable smile on her face. “I mean, what would I even have to teach you?”

Sometimes Kara hates herself for that smile. It’s Alex’s  _ I just said something complimentary about myself, which is ridiculous because I’ll never compare to you  _ smile. Kara’s pretty sure that smile didn’t exist before she came crashing into Alex’s life.

Tears escape down Kara’s cheeks, and her lungs feel stuck like they don’t want her to breathe.

“Anyway,” Alex continues. “You’re gonna be fine. You’ve never needed me. So I guess, uh, thanks for letting me tag along for the ride.” 

Alex smiles into the camera again, but this one is that same reassuring smile that she had given Kara before  _ the incident _ . Kara hates this smile even more. She didn’t before, but ever since that day, she might be happy never to see it again. 

“I love you, Kara.”

“I love you too,” Kara whispers back, her broken voice somehow making its way past the lump in her throat. She reaches a hand out to the screen, but the video cuts out, giving way to blackness.

And then Kara screams.

She’s not sure what exactly happens next. There’s sobbing. Things get broken. In the back of her mind, she realizes her powers have come back as the chair she launches smashes right through the base’s thick walls.

It’s deja vu as J’onn appears, wrapping her in his arms. She clutches desperately at his shirt as they collapse to the floor.

“I know,” J’onn mutters into her ear. “I got mine too.”

They sit there as Kara’s sobs abate into hiccups. Eventually Kara notices Eliza standing awkwardly off to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Kara whimpers up at her. “I’m so sorry.”

That’s all the impetus Eliza needs to join the hug.

 

* * *

 

_ “Is something the matter, Doctor?” J’onn asks. _

_ Doctor Hamilton takes a moment to carefully consider her words. “Agent Danvers has an advanced healthcare directive.” _

_ Kara inhales sharply. J’onn places a comforting hand on her shoulder. _

_ “Isn’t it rather early to be thinking about this kind of thing?” he asks. _

_ “I’m afraid not,” Dr. Hamilton responds. “Agent Danvers has made it very clear that if there’s no brain activity after thirty days— _ ”

_ “She’ll wake up,” Kara insists.  _

_ The look Doctor Hamilton gives her is sympathetic, but she clearly doesn’t share Kara’s optimism. To Kara, it’s not optimism though. It’s just fact. Alex is strong. Alex is going to wake up. Alex will prove Doctor Hamilton wrong.  _

_ “She’ll wake up,” Kara repeats vehemently. _

 

* * *

 

Kara visits Alex more often after that. Eliza gives her space and insists that she doesn’t blame her. Kara’s not sure she believes her. At least, she doesn’t believe her completely. 

But if it is true and Eliza doesn’t blame her, then she should. That’s how Kara feels anyway.

“You keep saying I never needed you,” Kara says to Alex, thrown by the mere idea of it. “I went along with it once, but it’s a lie. I’ve always needed you. I still need you. And you… Why would you say that?” Kara’s voice cracks. 

But Alex doesn’t respond. She just lies there, pale and listless, the antithesis of everything she’s supposed to be.

Kara grabs Alex’s hand and let’s her head fall on their joined thumbs. “Please don’t leave me,” she pleads, voice a desperate whisper.

Footsteps echo through the hallway as people approach. Kara looks up at the clock.

“Alex, please,” Kara pleads. “Please wake up.”


End file.
